


All the Things Yet to Come are the Things That Have Passed

by Atlanta_Black



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Hermione and Tom are going to take over the world tbh, I have no idea if there will be pairings in this fic because like they're technically still eleven, Master of Death Harry Potter, Reincarnation, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Ron and Harry are just so proud of her, The Golden Trio, Time Travel, but it's gonna be a wild ride, tom hasn't shown up yet but he will
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-01-06 16:57:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18392525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atlanta_Black/pseuds/Atlanta_Black
Summary: Every time he thinks fate is done destroying him and every time he is proven wrong.He wakes up.Harry wakes up, eleven years old, in a house he doesn’t recognize and feels his heart sink and his breath stutter and it takes every bit of will power he possesses to not scream.He wakes up in a world that is just familiar enough to make him ache and just different enough to make him rage.





	1. Chapter 1

_Every time he thinks fate is done destroying him and every time he is proven wrong._

 

He wakes up.

 

Harry wakes up, eleven years old, in a house he doesn’t recognize and feels his heart sink and his breath stutter and it takes every bit of will power he possesses to not scream.

 

He wakes up in a world that is just familiar enough to make him _ache_ and just different enough to make him rage.

 

His mother is _alive_ . Alive and vibrant with eyes full of love and Harry wants to cry every time she touches his hair and he wants to scream because she will never, _never_ know who he really is and the injustice is sinking into his bones and he is _unraveling and he did not ask for this did not—_

 

His father is alive. Breathing and moving around all the time with such purpose, with such enthusiasm for life and Harry wonders, aches, wants to know if this is what he could have been like if he had grown up with them the first time around. If he had grown up with nothing but their love and their support and his fathers endless string of _Merlin, look how big you’ve gotten I’m so proud of you I love you I love you I love—_

 

\---

 

Harry’s first life flashes by and Death watches, Death waits.

 

Harry wakes up in the afterlife to a being that tells him _no, you will not be allowed to move on. No, you cannot see your family. But I will give you what I can because you are my master and you have done nothing to shackle me and so I shall be kind._

 

Harry remembers none of this when he awakes.

 

\--

 

Harry wakes up.

 

Eleven years of memories already in his head. Eleven years of memories of happiness and hugs and affection and friendship and inside jokes and all the things he had dreamed about in his first life and had decided he didn’t deserve.

 

Eleven years of memories suddenly shadowed by 280 years of memories of his first life and Harry wakes up sobbing, panicking because no, this can not be happening and when Lily and James burst into his room they find him trying to claw his own skin off because he does not want to live through this again _please no, please please please plea-_

 

_\---_

 

It takes Harry hours to calm down. Hours before he can speak without sobbing. Hours before he can formulate some kind of excuse for why their normally happy, calm son is suddenly waking up screaming.

 

Whatever lie he tells they do not believe. They know their son and the boy in front of them is watching them with haunted eyes and everytime he touches them his fingers shake and the touches feel reverent and they do not know what has happened but they know it is not good.

 

\---

The next month is spent with Harry adapting to being in a different life so similar to his own.

 

Lily and James watch him with careful eyes during the weeks leading up to September 1st and Harry is so very, very careful to not let on that he is not the same son they remember raising.

 

_It’s not good enough._

 

The first time Sirius and Remus come to visit Harry almost breaks again. And while he holds himself together Remus can smell his pain, can smell the absolute heartbreak consuming him and he watches him with narrowed eyes the entire visit.

 

Sirius is the only one to not let on that he sees anything wrong but later that night he tells Remus _he hugged me as if I was going to disappear. As if he would turn around and I would be gone. Moony what’s happened to him, why is he suddenly so terrified and sad?_

 

_I don’t know, Pads. But he smelt of fear of sadness and heartbreak and underneath it all he smelt of anger. Burning, blistering anger._

_._

.

.

.

 

September 1st dawns and Harry wakes up with Bellatrix’s laughter ringing in his ears. It’s funny how being thrown back into your eleven year old body brings back all that childhood trauma that you had thought you had dealt with but clearly had just pushed down far enough that it didn’t bother you anymore.

 

He wakes up and her laughter is ringing in his ears and when he sees something move out of the corner of his eye he instinctively rolls off his bed, a blast of magic hurtling towards toward the movement and it’s not until he glances over the edge of the bed that he meets his dad’s wide eyes and feels something like terror, like helplessness, sink into his bones.

 

“Harry…” James’s voice trails off, his eyes moving between the singed spot on the wall and his son’s wide green eyes and Harry runs.

 

He’s down the stairs and out the front door before James can do more than yell his name.

 

“Harry!”

 

He’s halfway up the street but his mum screaming his name echoes through his head —‘ _Not Harry! Not Harry! Please-I’ll do anything—_ and he turns, catching her eyes and for just a second it’s as if time is suspended and he hesitates.

 

Lily is crying, green eyes bright, hair a red cloud in the wind and she is running, something wild and desperate in her gaze. James is only a few steps behind her and he has to make a choice. Has to do something…

 

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him._

 

There was never, has never been a choice.

 

Harry take one last look at his parents and dissapperates away.

 

Lily’s hand passes through air ….

 

_“HARRY!”_

.

.

.

.

He wasn’t sure where he’d end up. Apparating at eleven with no wand was already pretty risky business. He had also been panicking so that made the entire thing even more dangerous.

 

By some miracle he doesn’t splinch himself and he looks around to find himself in the middle of a small muggle neighborhood. He doesn’t recognize it at first but the longer he stares at the house directly in front of him, the surer he is of where he’d taken himself. He’d gone where he always goes in time of great distress.

 

“Do I know you?” a small voice asks the question sharply from behind him.

 

He spins around only to be confronted with an eleven year old Hermione Granger who is glaring at him, confusion clear on her face.

 

“You used to.” he says, regrets saying, wishes she could remember.

 

_Please please please I need you please don’t forget me_

 

Her eyes narrow, hands settling on her hips. “I believe I’d remember meeting you and besides, that’s not much of an answer is it. I’ve read a lot you know, wizards our age shouldn’t be able to apparate. And you look even younger than me.” The words are accusing.

 

He huffs out a laugh, of course even at this age she was still hopelessly smart.

 

_Please please please remember_

 

“I’m not a normal eleven year old.” he says. Watches her eyes narrow even further. Her eyes flick towards the house behind him and he watches as she shifts restlessly. She wants to run away he realizes. Wants to get away from the strange boy doing impossible things.

 

_Please please please_

 

“Hermione…” he starts, pauses. Not sure what to say to this girl that can’t remember him.

 

She twitches, eyes widening in shock.

 

“How do you know my name?” she demands and her eyes flick to her house again, fear starting to creep in.

 

_Please please please i need you i can’t do this please_

 

She twitches again, forehead creasing in pain.

 

“I used to know you.” he says again. “A very long time ago.”

 

_I can’t do this not alone please please not without you_

 

“Harry.” she murmurs his name and he stops breathing. She hisses, a pained sound that has him taking half a step forward before he even thinks about it.

 

Her eyes are clenched closed, forehead creased, hands curled into fists. She’s standing so rigidly he half expects her to fall over.

 

_Please_

 

There’s a long moment where nothing happens except for Hermione’s rapid breathing and hissed exhales. And then she opens her eyes and he almost sobs in relief.

 

Her eyes are filled with recognition and horror and sadness and she’s moving towards him at the same time he moves to her.

 

“I thought it was over.” she mutters, the words muffled into his shoulder.

 

“I did too but we’re back and my parents are alive and I’ve massively screwed up everything.” he says, his earlier panic still lingering in his chest.

 

But before she can respond there’s an ear splitting crack behind them and James is standing there. Eyes wild and desperate and he feels Hermione’s startled intake breath.

 

“ _Oh_ , he looks just like Jamie.” she says, sounding shocked.

 

Lily twists into existence next to her husband face tear streaked and hair sparking.

 

“And she looks just like Lils.” he mutters.

 

This is new. His children grew up always feeling as if they stood in the shadow of those they could never live up to. And now his parents are in front of him and some days all he can think of is how much they look like the children he’ll never get to see again.

 

His parents don’t immediately rush him, although he can tell that they’re barely holding themselves back. They stare at him for a long moment, eyes briefly flickering to where Hermione is still holding his hand, still right up next to him.

 

“You’re not Harry. Who are you?” the question seems to tear its way out of James and Harry stills, freezes. Lily turns wide eyes on James, clearly just as shocked by the question.

 

There’s a long period of silence, broken only by Hermione’s restless shifting next to him.

 

“I’m Harry.” he finally mutters. “I’m still your son, still Harry.”

 

Lily goes to step forward, eyes still bright with tears but James grabs her arm, ignores the glare she sends his way.

“See, you say that but my son doesn’t know how to apparate. He doesn’t wake up screaming from nightmares.” his dad bites the words out like they pain him. Hands shaking and eyes locked on Harry’s.

 

“No, I didn’t but now I do and I wish I could explain but I can’t.” He doesn’t think he could handle looking his parents in the eyes and telling them that in another life they died for him.

 

“Harry, _please_.” his mum has her hand outstretched, eyes pleading and he flinches backwards. The guilt is climbing up his throat and threatening to strangle him. He hates hates hates that he’s made her look like that.

 

“You can tell us anything, prongslet. Just please, whatever has happened please let us help.” some of the tenseness has fallen away from his dad’s shoulders and Merlin, he hates this, hates that he’s going to do nothing but cause them more pain.

 

“I’m sorry.” he chokes out at the same time that Hermione draws her wand.

 

“Harry, we need to go.” she says and he turns to her, watches her eyes flicker to the house behind them again.

 

He meets her eyes, sees the resolve that’s settled there. He looks at his dad, sees him eyeing Hermione with skepticism. His mum takes a step forward, hands outstretched.

 

_“Please, please I love you, Harry, darling please don’t ——”_

 

“ _I’m so so sorry_.” he says again, meeting his mum’s eyes and then they disappear with a crack as Hermione takes them to find their third.

  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh. 
> 
> He sits down, the realization sweeping over him suddenly. 
> 
> “Hermione…” he whispers her name, voice barely daring to work. “Hermione, Fred’s alive.” 
> 
> Her head snaps up, eyes widening and he can see her hands shaking. 
> 
> “He’s alive, Hermione. He’s right over the hill still alive. They’re all still alive.” his voice breaks on the last word and he sees the same disbelief echoed back at him from Hermione’s face.

They appear with a crack near the Burrow, and there’s a moment where the disbelief of their situation seems to fully sink in on Hermione. She sits down on the side of the road, wand clenched tight and stares at her hands as if she’s never seen them before. 

 

Harry watches her for a long moment before looking at the Burrow in the distance and feeling his heart clench. It’s been years and years since he last saw Molly and Arthur. Years and years since they passed and his children grew up and had children of their own. The prospect of seeing them again at some point had never crossed his mind until he was here, staring at their house and knowing they were somewhere in there getting ready to go to King’s Cross. 

 

_ Oh.  _

 

He sits down, the realization sweeping over him suddenly. 

 

“Hermione…” he whispers her name, voice barely daring to work. “Hermione, Fred’s alive.” 

 

Her head snaps up, eyes widening, and he can see her hands shaking. 

 

“He’s alive, Hermione. He’s right over the hill, still alive. They’re all  _ still _ alive.” His voice breaks on the last word, and he sees the same disbelief echoed back at him from Hermione’s face. 

 

“We have to be careful though, Harry,” she says, her own voice barely above a whisper. “This isn’t the same world we grew up in and I don’t…” She pauses, voice frustrated. “I don’t know what’s different. I need to think, to sort out my memories and…” She pauses, staring down at her hands again. 

 

“What? What’s wrong?” he prompts after the silence has dragged on for a long minute. 

 

“I shouldn’t have been able to Apparate us here.” she says, still staring at her hands. 

 

“What? Apparating is basic though, and you’re the brightest witch of our age.”

 

“It doesn’t matter. I’m eleven. I am physically eleven. There is no way I should have been able to do that and not horrifically splinch us.” 

 

She looks up, and he thinks for a moment that she’s going to start crying. She swallows it down after a second though and stands up, brushing her clothes off and looking at him expectantly. 

 

“Alright, come on. Let’s go see if we can catch Ron alone for a moment.” she says in that no-nonsense tone of hers that she uses when facing daunting tasks. 

 

He hesitates, looking over his shoulder, half-expecting his parents to show up again. 

 

“What are we going to do if we can catch him alone?” he asks, the enormity of what’s happening finally seeming to sink in. 

 

She hesitates, looking him over. “We’ll just have to hope whatever your magic did with me works with him as well.” 

 

He stares at her and swallows. That same desperate edge he approached her with has already ebbed away. Her presence calms his magic, and though he isn't sure if he can really muster it up again, he nods and follows her up the road

 

It’s Ron. He has to try. He would always try his hardest for them. 

.

.

.

.

.

Thankfully they think to circle around the back before they get within sight of the Burrow. It really wouldn’t do to have Molly catch sight of them before they can even try and speak with Ron. 

 

The first full view of the Burrow knocks the breath out of him. This is  _ home _ . This was his second home after Hogwarts and was where they all congregated for family get-togethers even after Molly and Arthur’s deaths. This is home and happiness and family, and he aches again for all that this life will never be able to give him. 

 

They creep as close as they dare, trying to stay behind trees and out of sight of the windows. There isn’t much they can do at this point besides wait and hope that Ron comes outside. According to Hermione’s  _ Tempus, _ they have roughly two hours before the Weasleys leave for the train, and they need to get to Ron  _ before _ he reaches Hogwarts. 

 

They both lean forward excitedly as the back door opens, only to deflate when it’s just Ginny running out to grab something from the garden. The sight of a ten-year-old Ginny hits Harry like a fucking rock to the head though. He sits down hard, back against a tree, and stares at her red hair as she disappears back into the Burrow. 

 

He has spent the majority of his life with her. He knows her as well as he knows himself and yet, he’s barely given her a thought since he woke up in this strange life. He’s thought of his children with increasing regularity. His parents are a stark reminder of his children. He’s thought of Hermione and Ron in that near-desperate way he always does when things suddenly take a turn for the worst. But he hasn’t thought of Ginny even once and he feels like the lowest scum for it. 

 

He tears his eyes away from the door that he watched her disappear into and finds Hermione watching him with worried eyes, hands clenched in front of her, knuckles white. But before she can say anything, the door opens again, Ron walks out the back, and Harry feels as if all the breath has left his lungs again.

 

_ Oh _ . 

 

How foolish of him to think that seeing Ron again wouldn’t bring that same desperate edge back. How foolish of him to think he doesn’t miss Ron with every single fiber of his being. How could he ever live without the two of them? It has been the three of them since they were eleven years old. It will always be the three of them. He can’t fathom a universe where it isn’t. 

 

_ Later he’ll look back on this moment and wonder why he didn’t respond just as desperately to seeing Ginny for the first time. Apparently you’re never too old to have life-changing revelations about yourself. Not even once you’ve died and been shoved into a new world.  _

 

“What if he doesn’t remember?” he whispers, voice hoarse. 

 

“He has to. He just has to” Hermione whispers back, face even paler than it was minutes ago. 

 

He watches her take a deep breath before she grabs his left hand and pulls him out of the trees with her. Ron’s head snaps towards them surprisingly fast, and there’s a moment where time seems to halt as they stare at each other. Ron’s eyes are wide and Merlin, Harry had forgotten how scrawny and pale Ron was at this age. 

 

A broken noise escapes Hermione before she can stop it and Harry feels his chest seize up.  _ What if he doesn’t remember? What do we do? _

 

The moment breaks and Ron surges forward, eyes wild. 

 

“In the woods—go back before Mum sees you,” he all but hisses at them, throwing a worried look over his shoulder. 

 

They do as he says, too shocked to do anything but listen. They scramble back into the woods a few steps until they’re sure the trees will hide them and then they turn only to find Ron staring at them with a huge grin. 

 

“You finally remember, huh?” 

.

.

.

.

.

Luna Lovegood wakes up sobbing. Wakes up in a small room, in the middle of London, in a house that only a few people know of. Wakes up sobbing so hard it feels as if her chest will explode from the force of the sorrow and joy and  _ merlin i missed you i missed you i missed you— _

 

She wakes up sobbing loud enough that it wakes her father in the next room and Xenophilius rushes to her side but all he can do is hover uselessly. 

 

“He is coming,” she sobs. Repeats the words over and over like a mantra. Like a  _ prayer _ . Repeats the words over and over even as she chokes on them around her sobs. The sobs have not stopped by the time Xenophilius summons Tom Riddle. Although to be fair, it does not take Xenophilius long to admit he cannot do anything to help his darling moon child. 

 

Tom Riddle arrives in a flurry of dark robes and dark eyes and a figure that gives away none of the stress he feels. He watches his favorite child sob and feels something like concern growing in his stomach. Luna has always been his favorite because of the prophetic aura that she gives off. The way she has of saying things that come true. The way she has of knowing things that no ten year old should know. 

 

His favorite because of how he has never scared her even at his worst. His most feared because she has a way of looking straight through him as if she can see all the thoughts he keeps buried down below. 

 

“He is coming. We are saved.” The change of phrase has them both standing even more rigidly as she sobs. It’s been close to two hours at this point and the sudden change of phrase has done nothing to break her sobs. Has done nothing but make it harder for her to get the words out around her tears. 

 

It is hours before her sobs calm. He can see sunlight trying to peek through the curtains before he thinks to reach out and brush her hair off of her tear-stained cheeks. She’s been leaning against him for hours now, but this is the first time that he’s thought to reach out to her. 

 

Her sobs stop abruptly, eyes catching his, and he freezes. 

 

_ “He is coming. We are saved. Death smiles upon them. He is coming and the phoenix will lead no more.” _

 

Her words reek of prophecy, and he watches as she slips into sleep. He watches the sun rise, uneasiness settling in his bones. This war has been going on for far too long, and he doesn’t know what it means that there is only now a prophecy being made. 

.

.

.

_ “You finally remember, huh?”  _ Ron says, smile wide as if they’re not all eleven years old again. 

 

“Excuse me?” Hermione’s voice rings out incredulously, and the words seem to echo through the forest. 

 

Ron glances over his shoulder uneasily before turning back to them, smile a bit more sheepish. “Sorry, just, I almost expected it to be Hogwarts before you remembered.” 

 

“You…” her voice breaks, “You remember me?” she asks, and Ron’s eyes widen with alarm before rushing forward to pull her into a hug. 

 

Harry is still awkwardly standing to the side, Hermione  _ still _ clutching his hand in a death grip and refusing to let go. He feels as if his heart hasn’t quite figured out how to beat a proper rhythm again. Feels as if he’s going to cry or laugh or both. 

 

“Of course I remember you,” he hears Ron whisper into her hair. “Brightest, bossiest witch of our age. How could I ever forget you?” 

 

They all stay like that for a moment longer before Ron raises his head slightly, eyes locking with Harry’s. Harry doesn’t know what he sees, but whatever it is, Ron’s eyes widen in alarm before he’s shuffling closer, dragging Harry into the hug, and they all stay like that for far longer than they should. 

 

“I take it you’ve both run away from home then?” Ron finally asks, backing up a bit but keeping a hand on both of their arms. 

 

Harry shares an uneasy glance with Hermione before they both nod. 

 

“Something like that,” he mutters, voice tight, some emotion still clogging his throat. 

 

Ron sighs and throws another glance over his shoulder. Something wistful creeps into his expression before he squares his shoulders. 

 

“Alright, suppose we should all get out of here before they get around to tracking you here. Don’t suppose anyone has any ideas on where to go?” 

 

They all stare at each other blankly. None of their usual hiding spots will work in this life and they are eleven years old with no connections, no friends except for each other. 

 

Which is how two hours later, after multiple apparition jumps to throw off anyone trailing them, they end up in front of a small house on the outskirts of London. 

 

They all exchange uneasy glances, wands gripped tightly in their hands before they knock on the door. 

 

They can hear yelling from inside the house before the door is flung open. 

 

“What do you…” Sirius all but yells in their faces before trailing off, face almost comically shocked. 

 

“Hey, Padfoot. Don’t suppose we could come in?” Harry asks, face sheepish. 

 

Sirius stares at them for a second, eyes flitting between the three of them before he turns and yells into the house. “MOONY! YOU WILL NEVER BELIEVE WHICH BRAT JUST TURNED UP ON OUR DOORSTEP.” 

.

.

.

.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL here it is. Almost three months later and I just randomly cranked out the whole chapter in one sitting. 
> 
> To be fair I have been obnoxiously busy with moving across the country and getting settled but I've also had the absolute worst writers block for the past few months so I'm not even really sure where this came from. 
> 
> I've had the bit with Luna written since I posted the first chapter and i just couldn't figure out what to do with it but yay! Here you go!
> 
> Hopefully this meets expectations and I honestly think I broke my own heart with a couple of these lines so you're welcome. 
> 
> Also yeahhhh I thought maybe this was going to be tomarry but it's def going to be a Hermione/Harry/Ron fic
> 
> I just love their dynamic so much and I honestly have been wanting to write them for so long so here we go!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hermione, how much are we telling them?” he asks, voice tired. 
> 
> She glances over at him and then back at Sirius and Remus. 
> 
> “However much you want to, Harry,” she hesitates, glances at him again. “Just remember, they’re not the same people you used to know.” she says it as quietly as she can but he can see Remus’s eyes narrow even further. 
> 
> “In for a knut, in for a galleon.” Ron mutters on his other side, ignoring Hermione’s glare. 
> 
> “So, I guess I might as well just spit out the important bit then,”

Harry doesn’t know how to interpret the look on Sirius’s face. They’ve only just entered the house, the four of them awkwardly standing in Sirius’s tiny living room. And while he can hear Remus clattering around upstairs, he had never considered that the two lived together. Hadn’t been expecting anyone else to be here really. 

 

Sirius hasn’t said a word since opening the door and yelling for Remus. Hasn’t said anything except to ‘get in here, stand here and hold on for a minute’. Now he’s leaning against the wall, eyebrows creased and watching them with a look that Harry has never seen before. Except that, almost every look is a look that Harry has never seen before. Because this isn’t his Sirius. He knows that but he had still brought them all here. 

 

Remus arrives, clambering down the stairs and almost runs directly into Sirius. 

 

“For fucks’ sake, Moony. Watch it!” Sirius exclaims, moving out of the way but never taking his eyes off of the three of them. 

 

_ “Harry.” _ Remus breathes his name and Harry flinches. There was so much worry behind that one word and merlin, he feels awful. 

 

“You know, prongslet, when I told you to cause havoc at school I did mean at school,” Sirius finally says, voice wry. 

 

Harry says nothing. Doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t even know why he brought them here. This isn’t his Sirius, and Remus is  _ so fucking young _ that he doesn’t know what to do. He’s vaguely aware, in a distant sort of way, that his breathing has gotten erratic and that Sirius is staring at him with a look of concern, body leaning forward, poised to bolt off the wall. But he doesn’t really register the panic he’s feeling until Ron twists in front of him and grabs his face with both hands. 

 

“Hey, Harry, mate. You need to breathe. Follow my breathing, yeah.” Ron leans his forehead against Harry’s and Harry feels like, like he’s shattering but he does what Ron says. Listens to him breathing, lets it fill him up until he can’t hear anything else. 

 

They used to do this after the war, whenever one of them got too overwhelmed. But Merlin, it had been years since they had to calm the other down. Years since any of them got worked up enough that they needed help. 

 

Ron doesn’t move until he feels some of the tension leak out of Harry’s body. Doesn’t move until Harry’s breathing has evened out. 

 

“You good?” he whispers, hands still warm against Harry’s face. “We can leave if you need us to.” the words are so quiet he barely hears them. 

 

He shakes his head, takes a deep breath. “No, we’re already here and we need help. I’ll be fine.” he whispers back and Ron sighs, but moves away, back to Harry’s side. 

 

As Ron moves aside, Harry can see Hermione standing in front of them, wand out and face fierce. Sirius and Remus are both wearing befuddled expressions as if they don’t know what to do with an eleven year old facing them down. 

 

“So, Harry. You want to explain why your mum and dad flooed us in a panic not even an hour ago? Or why you’re here, not on the train and with a Weasley and…” he trails off, gesturing towards Hermione. 

 

“I am very curious about Ron there actually,” Remus says, voice mild. “Because I know for a fact that you have never met any of the Weasleys.” 

 

Harry swallows, not sure where to even begin. Not sure how he feels about a world where he’s never met the Weasleys even though his parents are still alive. Hermione moves to stand next to him, and feeling them on either side of him gives him the strength to start talking. 

 

“Do you remember a month ago, when I woke up screaming? I’m sure Dad told you about it.” he finally asks, tries to act like the word dad didn’t still feel foreign in his mouth. He sees Sirius’s eyes go sharp and feels his hands shaking. 

 

“Of course. You wouldn’t tell anyone what happened. Said it was  _ just _ a bad dream even though it was clear no one believed you,” Sirius says. 

 

“In a way, it was a bad dream,” he says, laughing softly. “I didn’t lie about that, just left out all the important bits.” 

 

Sirius is frowning and looks about five seconds away from bolting for the Floo. Remus is staring at him, eyes narrowed and Harry can see his nostrils flared as he smells for lies. 

 

“Hermione, how much are we telling them?” he asks, voice tired. 

 

She glances over at him and then back at Sirius and Remus. 

 

“However much you want to, Harry,” she hesitates, glances at him again. “Just remember, they’re not the same people you used to know.” she says it as quietly as she can but he can see Remus’s eyes narrow even further. 

 

“In for a knut, in for a galleon.” Ron mutters on his other side, ignoring Hermione’s glare. 

 

“So, I guess I might as well just spit out the important bit then,” he says, licks his lips, tugs at his shirt, trying to still his trembling fingers. “A month ago I woke up in this world, with 280 years of memories from my first life and somehow, when I panicked I managed to pull Hermione’s memories from our first life to the front of her mind as well.” 

 

There’s a long, tense silence as Sirius and Remus stare at the three of them. It’s finally broken by Sirius’s harsh laughter. 

 

“Bullshit,” he says, voice hard. “I don’t know what kind of mischief you’re trying to pull off but you’re —” 

 

“He’s telling the truth.” Remus cuts Sirius off, ignoring his wide eyed disbelief in favor of staring at Harry eyes full of sympathy and suspicion. “There’s more though. What else are you not telling us?”

 

The words hang in the air for a long moment and Harry swallows, before glancing at Hermione. She and Ron are staring at each other, having a conversation that seems to consist of nothing but her frown steadily becoming more pronounced and Ron’s eyes getting more and more intense. 

 

Harry resists the urge to step back. He’d always hated being in between them when they did this and that hasn't changed now that they are suddenly eleven again. He turns his gaze back to Sirius and feels ice settle in his stomach. Sirius is looking at him, eyes suspicious and Harry hates it. Sirius had never looked at him like that before and he  _ hates hates hates  _ it. 

 

“Why do you think we’re hiding something?” Hermione asks suddenly, turning her gaze back to Remus. 

 

Remus blinks at her before huffing out a short laugh. “Really? You’re going to ask me that after I watched you two exchange looks like that?” he asks, motioning between Ron and Hermione. 

 

“Yes, yes. Obviously you know now. But what originally made you think we’re hiding something?” she snaps, hands clutching tight at her skirt. 

 

Remus narrows his eyes, taking them all in and Harry turns his gaze back to Sirius. His thoughts are beginning to feel sluggish and there’s a hazy memory trying to play on repeat in his head but he can’t quite grasp all the details.  _ Look at you prongslet, eight years old! What do you want for your birthday this year? _

 

“You mean besides the fact that Harry keeps looking at Sirius as if he’s never seen him before? Or maybe the fact that he looks like he’s going to cry everytime Sirius speaks.” Remus says, voice harsh and Harry’s eyes snap back to him. Remus is staring at the three of them, something almost like amusement but also like dread in his eyes. 

 

_ “I want a friend!” he tells Padfoot excitedly. His godfather always gets him what he asks for and he’s sure this time will be the same.  _

 

_ Padfoot looks at him and even at eight years old Harry can see that he’s surprised.  _

 

_ “You have friends, prongslet,” he says, voice confused. “What’s wrong with Neville and Luna?”  _

 

_ Harry hesitates, there’s nothing wrong with them. He loves them. But he doesn’t know how to tell his godfather why he needs different friends.  _

 

_ “Nothing’s wrong,” he mutters, shrugs. “They’re just wrong. The wrong friends. I’m meant to have different friends.” he says, knows those still aren’t the right words.  _

 

_ Sirius stares at him for a minute, lips pursed and forehead creased in concern. “Alright. Well let’s go to Diagon and maybe we can find you some more friends,” he says slowly, before picking Harry up and tossing him into the air.  _

 

_ Harry yells excitedly, his earlier distress forgotten already.  _

 

“HARRY!” 

 

He blinks, feeling like there’s still fuzz clinging to his brain. He hadn’t even really realized that he’d spaced out, lost in the memory. Hermione is standing in front of him, hair frizzing from distress and he realizes he has no idea how many times she’s called his name. 

 

“Sorry,” he mutters, rubbing at his forehead, trying to relieve the tension building in his head. “I spaced out there for a bit.” 

 

Hermione says nothing and he looks up to see her staring in shock at his forehead. 

 

“It’s not there,” she whispers and then grimaces. “I knew that, but then what else isn’t here?” 

 

“Alright! I’ve had enough of this.” Sirius suddenly barks and Hermione whirls around, wand clenched in her hand. Ron takes a step forward, tension radiating from his shoulders. It takes Harry a moment to realize they’ve both put themselves in front of him and he scowls at their backs, he wasn’t helpless for Merlin’s sake. 

 

“What the fuck.” Sirius says, voice flat. “I’m not going to hurt my own godson.”   
  


“No offense, Sirius but you really don’t look like you believe anything we’ve said.” Hermione says, not moving and when Harry moves to step around her she shifts so that she’s still in front of him. 

 

“No, Sirius is right.” Remus says, still watching them with that strange look in his eyes. “Sirius, go call  _ him. _ He’s going to want to know about this so he might as well be here while we figure the rest of this out.” 

 

“Who are you calling?” Ron asks, voice sharp and he takes another step towards Sirius. “Not Dumbledore?” 

 

Harry glances at him in surprise and sees the look reflected back on Sirius’s face. 

 

“Huh. A Weasley that doesn’t trust Dumbledore, never thought I’d see the day.” he says, voice amused. “No, I’m not calling Dumbledore. No worries there.” 

 

“Then who?” Ron asks again, pitch creeping upward. Hermione has turned her head to stare at him in confusion as well and he thinks she realizes at the same time he does that they still don’t know how long Ron’s had his memories back. They still don’t know how or when he got them back. 

 

She throws a worried look over her shoulder at Harry but he just shoots her a grim smile. He trusts Ron. He doesn’t know where this is going but he trusts Ron with his life. 

 

Sirius doesn’t bother answering Ron again. Just summons his patronus, whispers something too quietly for any of them to hear and they all watch as it takes off through the wall. 

 

“If you didn’t call Dumbledore then there are only two other people who are important enough for you to call in,” Ron says, voice thin. “You can still summon a patronus so I’m assuming you’re not with Grindelwald.” 

 

Harry feels his jaw drop and watches Hermione stiffen in shock. 

 

“Which means you called him and I’m telling you right now, that was a bad idea.” Ron says. 

 

Sirius narrows his eyes at Ron. “How do you even know about him. You’re too young and your parents don’t even follow him.” 

 

“That’s really not important. What’s important is…” he doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. 

 

They all freeze at the sound of the floo activating in the kitchen. 

 

“Black, where are you? This had better be important.” the voice is masculine and familiar enough that Harry feels goosebumps break out. 

 

Hermione stiffens even more, looking as if she’s going to bolt at any moment. Ron moves even closer to her, nearly obscuring Harry’s view of the kitchen doorway. 

 

“We’re in here, boss!” Sirius yells, not taking his eyes off of them.

 

Harry glances over at Remus, who’s leaning back against the side of the stairs, arms crossed, gaze fixed firmly on Harry himself. He looks back at the doorway right as the man walks through the door and sucks in a shocked breath. His fingers feel numb suddenly and his veins feel like they’ve turned to ice.

 

Because there in the doorway is none other than Tom bloody Riddle in his prime. 

.

.

.

.

He doesn’t remember passing out but he must have because when he opens his eyes it’s to nothing but white as far as his eyes can see. The whiteness of that train station that has haunted his dreams his entire life. 

 

He breathes in. Looks down at his hands. Lets out a laugh, and stands up. He’s back in his seventeen year old body. Back at the same age he had been when he died the first time. He hadn’t realized how aggravating it was to be in a child’s body again until he was suddenly out of it. To think he still had six years to go until he got back to this age. What a disappointment. 

 

Or at least he thinks he still has six years. He looks around the train station again. He doesn’t think he died. Seeing Tom again had been a shock but it was still just Tom, not Voldemort. He was pretty sure he had only passed out, so why was he here?

 

_ You were not supposed to bring their memories back. _

 

He yelps, spins around and immediately freezes. There’s a being standing there, figure dark and imposing. It’s being keeps flashing between the figures of his children and he closes his eyes. Squeezes them shut and breathes in. Opens them slowly and squints at the being standing in front of him. The flashing has stopped and instead Snape suddenly appears to be standing in front of him. 

 

He blinks. Okay, weird but better than the flashing figures of his children. 

 

“What are you?” he asks, although he already has a sinking suspicion that he knows. 

 

_ You know me.  _ The voice echoes around him. Snape’s mouth never opens.  _ You are still too young to perceive my true form and so I have picked this one for now.  _

 

He blinks again. Okay, still weird. 

 

“Why am I here?” 

 

_ You were not supposed to bring their memories back. _ __   
  


He narrows his eyes. “Ron and Hermione? And why not?” he demands. 

 

_ It goes against the will of Fate. She is not pleased.  _

 

Alright, that was a pretty good reason, not that he would admit that. “I don’t care,” he snaps, fists clenched. Snape’s head tilts, face blank. Harry gets the feeling that it’s trying to convey an emotion but is doing a bad job of it. 

 

_ You will. _ The voice echoes and he shivers.  _ You may be my master but no one commands fate. Good luck, Harry Potter.  _

 

He opens his mouth to say something and then squeezes his eyes shut again as the station starts rapidly spinning. 

.

.

.

.

 

He wakes up to arguing. 

 

“He’s my godson! You don’t get to keep me away from him.” Sirius snarls. 

 

Harry breathes in. Tries to not flinch. Breathes out. Lets the warmth of Sirius’s concern fill him up. 

 

“He was ours long before he belonged to you.” Ron snaps back. 

 

“Ron!” Hermione exclaims, “He doesn’t belong to any of us for Merlin’s sake.” 

 

“You feel the same way, Hermione. Don’t even try to tell me you don’t.”

 

There’s a beat of silence and Harry doesn’t know what happens but he can feel the tension in the air. 

 

He opens his eyes and is greeted with Hermione and Ron’s backs. They’re standing in front of the couch he’s laying on. Presumably stopping Sirius from getting closer. If he listens, he can hear clattering from the kitchen which he assumes is where Remus has disappeared off to.

 

Hermione is standing so rigidly that he worries she’s going to fall over. Ron isn’t much better, still poised to fight anyone who comes near them. 

 

Harry is beginning to think that coming here was a mistake. That they should have hunkered down somewhere and figured it out by themselves, getting other people involved had never worked well for them; he doesn’t know why he thought that would have changed. 

 

He turns his eyes to the end of the couch and freezes as he locks eyes with Tom fucking Riddle. 

 

Riddle is leaning against the wall, arms crossed. He’s staring at Harry with a speculative look that causes goosebumps to break out over his skin.  

 

Ron, Hermione and Sirius are still arguing off to the side but he tunes them out as he continues to stare at Riddle. 

 

He doesn’t know what it means that Sirius and Remus can summon Tom Riddle to their house. Or what it means that they have no fear of having him around Harry. But dread is starting to creep through his veins. He had been too caught up in his own panic to really pay attention to the papers or to the politics of this world. 

 

He’s very much beginning to regret that. He’s beginning to regret a lot of things. 

 

Riddle smirks, Harry narrows his eyes and then —

 

“Luna Lovegood sends her regards.” he drawls, voice just as cool and collected as Harry remembers. 

 

There’s a split second where silence descends and time seems to hang suspended as everyone turns to stare at Riddle. 

 

And then chaos breaks out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's uppppppp. I honestly thought it had been longer than like two months since I last updated this one, so uh huh, look at me, doing better than I thought. 
> 
> Unfortunately, it will probably be a while till I update again because I just got a full time job (with benefits, can i get yoo - fucking - hoo) and i have a 2.5 month volunteering gig starting in october and school starts back on the 23rd and I'm doing full time with that. 
> 
> so uhhhhh, lets just count our blessings if I manage to post anything at all during that time. 
> 
> But uhhhhh, I realize after saying that, that I'm leaving you on the worse cliffhanger and just ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah
> 
> sorry bye love you thx <3 xxx

**Author's Note:**

> this is something i've been kind of fucking around with for ages (AKA procrastinating) and I'm finally satisfied with the first part.
> 
> Shout out to Dorea for beta-ing the first part <3


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